Stupid Saturday and Smug Smirks
by LainellaFay
Summary: Plotting for Hughes's camera's demise leads to Mustang's smug smirks irritating Ed. RoyEd.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.**

A/N: A plot bunny that came from nowhere. I swear. Unedited, because I'm lazy and I know that not editing is bad and stuffs - I'm sorry? I'll add in hot chocolate with my apology, if that helps. Okay anyways, so I've been reading Roy/Ed fics - tons of them - and this pairing is like stuck in my head now. Prince of Tennis is...unfortunately not, so my updates on them will be like I don't know when. I'm babbling, and I'm going to stop or I'll bore you all to death before the fic even starts. (Do people even read A/Ns?)  
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**Warning: Language. Shounen-ai (male/male). **

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><p><strong><span>Stupid Saturday and Smug Smirks<span>  
><em>- LainellaFay<em>**

_Edward Elric, death by smug smirks._

Just what the Fullmetal Alchemist wants written on his gravestone. No, perhaps it should be elaborated a bit more.

_Edward Elric, death by Roy Mustang's smug smirks._

Perfect. Okay, not perfect because it would mean he's six feet under and most importantly _dead_. Being dead has a lot of inconveniences; not being able to read alchemy texts is one of such. But that's besides the point, the point was, if Mustang wouldn't stop doing that damn smirk sometime that day, there would be a splatter of blood and gunk previously known as the Fullmetal Alchemist in the café where he's sitting in with his commanding officer, the useless-when-wet Flame Alchemist.

On a freaking Saturday afternoon.

Charming.

.~.

"Are you crazy or are you _crazy_?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean. Is there a difference?" Roy had his infuriating smug smirk on – Ed was practically seething through his teeth. He never understood why Mustang had to make that stupid face – hot, but stupid, and useless, and not to mention downright _annoying_.

"Didn't you notice my emphasis the second time?" he growled, slapping Roy's hand away from his cookie – chocolate chips without those disgusting nuts Mustang always buys.

"Oh, I noticed. I just chose not to acknowledge it."

"Y- _fuck _you." Ed chomped down on his cookie, licking his lips to capture stray crumbs.

"If you're willing." Shit, Roy had that little one eyebrow lifted up thing he always does when he's suggesting something – and he definitely _is_ suggesting something; he always is, that creep. "But I would have to order a smaller bed. Wouldn't want you to get lost in the sheets, would we?"

Ed swallowed the last of his – oh _god_ – delicious cookie. His left eye was twitching uncontrollably – no, maybe _not_ uncontrollably because Ed always has his body, limbs, nerves, _whatever_ under control – so no, it was twitching somewhat-in-control-yet-not. "_Who are you calling so small that he would get squashed by the tiniest fold of linen!_" Huffing, Ed reached out for his latte (apparently there's milk but it didn't look or taste like cow juice so what the heck) and frowned when he picked it up to find it empty. Slamming the cup back down on the table, Ed snarled, "Why the fuck am I sitting here with you?"

Well, at least Roy's paying. Hmm, a second batch of latte and cookies sound scrumptious. And so he ordered just that. Again, _Roy's_ paying.

"Because I'm sexy and you want a piece."

"Har har, very funny." Yes he does. More than just a piece to be honest – a piece is goddamn tiny, come on, look at those jigsaw pieces. Maybe like a chunk, a really large one – stuff that – the whole damned thing – yes, now that sounds better. Not that he'd admit it. Gosh, _imagine_ the smirk; it's already there but just imagine, _imagine_ it getting _wider_ – oh, the world would be better off without it, that's for sure. Wait, that piece thing better _not_ be a short joke.

"We all know I'm hilarious," Roy drawled and he shifted in his seat, crossing his left leg over his right under the table. "Let's get back on topic-"

"So we _had_ a topic?"

"-Maes. Camera. Plan. Got it?" Ah, the smirk's finally gone. Bless the world.

"Uhuh." Ed nodded. The latte and cookie finally arrived and he busied himself with the edibles. "Just do your fire thingy – you know, the thing you do when you show off to people – and blow the fucking thing up. There done."

"Right. And all the evidence would pass by your head and point straight at me. I don't think so Fullmetal."

Ed twitched at the short jab; the – _sweet heavens_ – yummy cookie melting in his mouth held back his rebut. Mustang should thank the cookie for that, Ed thinks. "You can weasel your way out of it. Hell, I don't even know why you need to discuss this shit with me. It's all so simple, like-like…one plus one, yeah."

"You mean like a-b-c." Ed lifted up his eyebrows – yes, _eyebrows_; curse his inability to lift up one eyebrow like Mustang – at Roy's correction, as if to say 'so?' Roy sighed and continued, "I thought that you would be smart enough to realize trying to escape being called guilty under Maes's watch is plain impossible – _yes_, you heard me right, I admit it. And the fact that it was _you_ who dragged me into this mess with Maes's camera and disappearance slash destruction of Elysia's summer swimsuit photos made that a reason for me to be – as you put – 'discussing this shit' with you."

"That was _so_ not _my_ fault!"

Roy stared at him.

"It was because you were doing that stupid smirk!"

Roy continued staring.

Ed bristled.

"I'm glad we got that settled."

"Fuck you. Fuck Hughes."

"Hmm, I don't think adultery plus threesome is my cup of tea. If it's just me and you though, I'll be more than willing to comply."

"Argh!" Ed threw his hands up in the air. Good thing he had his new cup of latte, or hell would freeze over. Or maybe Briggs would burn. The latter seems more probable, judging by the heat rising up in his body. Was Roy always this…well…or was it just Roy on a Saturday? Aw dammit, that smirk is back. Mustang can't keep that smirk away for more than five minutes can he? "Wait, so adultery and threesomes are not your thing, but _underage and illegal_ is?"

"Seems like it."

"Heh, always knew you're a pervert." Ed gulped down some latte, strategically using the cap of the cup to hide the flush on his cheeks; he could always blame the heat from the drink, but still.

"You sadden me."

"I would believe you if you didn't have that smirk on your face – oh wait, I still wouldn't."

"Ah, you caught me." Roy feigned hurt, his hand over his chest in an exaggerated gesture. "Your words shy in comparison to an ant bite."

The sinful cookie was gone so Ed's mouth went flying. "_Who are you calling so small that an ant can swallow him whole!_"

"You." Mustang ignored the second – no, third – round of Ed's rant. "Fullmetal. _Maes,_" he reminded, never mind the fact that it was _he_ who derailed their conversation first.

"Alright, fine." A pause. "Are you sure he'll try to blackmail us with photos?"

Roy only looked at him.

"Alright! Alright! I get it. You know _everything_, goddammit, you and your god complex." Ed chugged the rest of his latte, ignoring the burn on his tongue; that would sting for a while, but anything was better than Mustang's smug smirks which he's still doing…right…now. "Wouldn't he just get another camera? Why don't we nip this in the bud and just toss Hughes of a bridge or a cliff, with the sharp pointy rocks and all underneath. Everyone's happy."

"As much as he irate me, leaving poor Gracia widowed and Elysia fatherless isn't quite what I was thinking to save my skin – and yours."

"Hmpfh," Ed snorted. True, kind Gracia and Elysia had nothing to do with Hughes's horrible tendencies, it would be _awful_ of him to cause them grief over, again, Hughes's horrible tendencies. "But if Hughes didn't have a family, you would so follow my plan, right?"

"Yes." Wow, not even pausing to answer. Ed grinned, maybe – just _maybe_ – the Colonel isn't that bad. At least they had the same enemies, that's saying something, right? He could get along with this Roy on a Saturday – okay, maybe not; that _smirk_ and those suggestive crap which is making him horny, and being horny in front of the sexy beast who is the cause of your wet dreams is _not_ all fun and games. "As much as I love him, sometimes-" Mustang made a squishy looking face – wow, _that's_ weird, "-throwing him into a pride of very hungry lions sounds fascinating."

"Ew," Ed crinkled up his nose, "you love him."

"Not as much as I love you."

"Ew," Ed repeated, "you love me." Mm, another cookie sounds delightful. Pause. Rewind. "You love _me_."

"We could do without the emphasis."

"I'm horny as fuck and seconds away from jumping you in a fucking café and now you're telling me you love _me_?" Ed saw Mustang do that one eyebrow lift thing again and furrowed his eyebrows. What – oh, shit – Ed clamped his hands over his mouth in realization. "I did _not_ just say that." His words were muffled by his palms. "I did _not_. No, don't make that face – you know what I'm talking about. Forget the last few seconds. Just forget it, never speak of it, never bring it-"

"Fullmetal."

"-up again – oh hell, I'm going to kill myself – no I'm-"

"Fullmetal."

"-going to kill _you_ and then stab myself in the throat-"

"Fullmetal. Edward!"

"-yes?" Ed more or less squeaked – more on the _less_ cause Edward never squeaks; squeaking is for wimps, and he is _not_ a wimp.

"How about we go over to my place and kiss each other senseless." Mustang phrased it more as an order rather than a question.

"Fuck yes," Ed replied when he regained control of his vocal cords – not that he had lost control of them to start with, just…you know. "Why didn't we do that to start with?" he asked as they left the café after Roy paid the bill.

"I did hint it quite a few times, you just didn't pick it up. It's unsurprising really, seeing how my words tend to fly over your head rather than enter your ears."

"Keep up with the short jokes and you'll find yourself castrated in a bloody ditch tonight."

"Mmm, sounds painful."

"Damn right it will be."

Roy chuckled and slung his arm over Ed's shoulders, pulling the younger boy closer to his side; he had checked the surroundings for passerby before doing so – there were none…besides one – not quite a passerby, nor a stranger, but someone both men know fairly well, hiding in the bushes along the sidewalk with a camera in his hands. They both missed the sound of the shutter clicking on the camera and a snicker as they strolled down the path.

Oh well.

At least the day hadn't ended with a dead Edward Elric, death caused by Roy Mustang's smug smirks.

Everything's fine in the universe.

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><p><strong>AN: Where's the plot. I have no idea. Here's me: crossing fingers and shamelessly hoping for reviews.  
>Okay, never in my life have I written so many swear words (words that I never even SAY), mmm, well, I love Ed anyway. I MIGHT - emphasize on MIGHT - write like a sequel to this which would actually be a prequel to this, if you understand what I'm even writing, about the issue of Maes and Elysia's photographs. But for now, this is staying as a one-shot.<strong>


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